From the Ashes, You Crawl

Chapter Fifteen

They stayed together for a very long time after that. Gerard lost count of the days. Weeks turned to months. Maybe an entire year had passed. He did not know. It got colder, then warmer. It snowed a little every so often, gray snow, dirt and soot tainting the white coat, and Frank built a snowman in the front yard.

"His name is Henry," He said to Gerard who was standing in the doorway, ready to leave to collect for the day. Gerard could only stare at the dirty, gray snowman. They came home to find Henry only a puddle of water, the hat and scarf Frank had sat on him,laying on the dirt. Nobody spoke of it, and nobody picked the scarf and hat from the ground.

One day after the snow had melted, the two stood together, shifting through an apartment, collecting food and medicine. They collected like this every single day, shoving cans and boxes of degrading food into their bags and then dragging them home. Some days, they had lively, cheerful conversations as they stood in somebody else's apartment, and Frank would make Gerard laugh. Frank always knew it was a good day when he could make Gerard laugh. Some days, neither spoke at all. Not from the moment they got up till the moment they went to bed, and that was okay.

"What will you do when I'm gone?" Frank asked, not pausing in his collecting. Gerard stopped, his hands around a box of graham crackers, but he didn't respond. "Will you just go back to how things were without me?" Frank continued, shoving a few more boxes into his bag, "Or not?"

Gerard didn't know how to respond. "You're not going anywhere, Frank," Gerard said quietly, mostly as a reassurance to himself. He couldn't bear that thought. No.

"I know, but," Frank continued, pulling away from his now empty cabinet to a set of doors on the floor, "I'm just speaking hypothetically. If I died, right here, right now, what would you do?"

Gerard really, really didn't want to think about that. Gerard could not lose Frank. The medic already had such a vast impact on Gerard's way of life, he was noticing. He no longer walked with a limp. He finally shook his head, casting out the idea entirely. "I don't know," Gerard said, rubbing his trembling hands over his ears, "I really just don't have any idea."

"Okay," Frank sighed, accepting Gerard's response as he dug through the cabinet on the floor. Gerard felt curious now. He turned slightly towards Frank, and even though, he didn't want to think about it, he was certainly curious.

"What would you do when I'm gone?" Gerard asked, looking down at the medic on the floor, his eyes scanning over the scrawny man. This made Frank stop immediately, his brow furrowing. It seemed to be a never ending minute where Frank crouched there, his brow furrowed, and Gerard staring him down.

"I don't know," Frank began, turning his head towards Gerard, "Die, I guess." Gerard really didn't like that answer, so he turned away, back to his collecting. It was less than a minute later when Frank began talking again. "Oh! Oh, man!" Frank said, backing away from the cabinet, his eyes wide, "You are not going to believe this."

Gerard's hands immediately flung to his gun. "No! No!" Frank said quickly, holding up his hands, "It's nothing bad... Just..." His hands went inside the cabinet for a moment to reveal an old cooler. It was probably red years ago, but it had faded over time to a brownish tan color. Grinning like a madman, Frank plucked off the top to reveal six cans of beer. Gerard's mouth dropped open.

"Do you think they're still good?" Gerard whispered, like somebody else would hear them. There was nobody around. They were alone.

"There only one way to find out," Frank replied with a devilish grin. That night after the stock had been put away, and they had eaten a little, the two sat down in the glow of a kerosene lamp in the dark room, three cans each and drank. It was unnervingly quiet, except for the occasional slurp, and that made Gerard feel a little sick. He had barely finished a can when his head started to feel buzzy and heavy. It had been years since he had tasted beer, and even though this particular supply seemed rotten to him, it was lovely.